


Like the End and the Way

by Hibou_Gris



Category: Life (TV)
Genre: Episode Tag, F/M, Gen, Post-Canon, Post-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-31
Updated: 2018-03-31
Packaged: 2019-04-16 02:58:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14155155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hibou_Gris/pseuds/Hibou_Gris
Summary: The night after the day before. Post-One tag.





	Like the End and the Way

Charlie dreams of cages. Sometimes it’s Reese in the cage, sometimes it’s him, sometimes it’s Reese but _he_ is Reese because it’s a dream and dreams are fucked up. He can hear dogs barking, and he’s on the floor, face pressed against cement; there’s a hard hand on the back of his neck, holding him down.

He wakes up in his bed, in his house – not in a cage, or a cell. 

Reese is safe and Roman is dead. Reese is safe and no one is in a cage.

He wants to call Reese, but he’s already called her three times tonight, once they finally let him leave the station after hours of interrogation. Debriefing. No one arrested him at the end, so debriefing. Reese had left earlier, Tidwell taking her to get checked out at the hospital, but she was back home the last time he called. 

Reese hadn’t sounded pissed, or told him not to call, but still. It must be after midnight. She and Tidwell are probably sleeping. It’s not fair to wake her up just so he can hear her voice, know that she’s alive and well and not –

He calls Reese.

She answers after the second ring. “Yeah?”

“Hey, it’s Crews,” Charlie says.

“Yeah,” Reese says. “Everything okay?” She sounds tired, but not like she’s just woken up.

“Yeah, fine,” Charlie says. “And you? You’re okay?”

“Yeah,” Reese says, her voice soft. “I’m okay.” 

Charlie closes his eyes, breathes a little. There’s a pause, and he waits for Reese to ask – _what’s going on? Why are you calling me? Do you know what time it is? Are you freaking out?_ He doesn’t have any answers.

“You should come over,” Reese says.

Charlie opens his eyes. “What?”

“You should come over to my place,” Reese says, and it doesn’t make any more sense the second time. 

“Now?” Charlie says. “Are you sure? But – ”

He can almost hear Reese rolling her eyes at him over the phone. “Get over here, Crews.”

She hangs up.

Charlie calls a taxi. He stares out the window the whole ride over to Reese’s place, tries to count the streetlights, stay in the moment. It doesn’t occur to him until he’s walking up Reese’s front steps that he’s still wearing the clothes he’d gone to bed in – t-shirt, sweatpants, no socks, his wallet and phone clutched in his hand. He looks down – he put on shoes, at least.

He lifts his hand to knock on the door, then thinks better of it and calls Reese instead. 

“It’s Crews, I’m outside,” he says when she picks up.

“Hold on,” Reese says. “Be right there.”

Reese opens the door, looks him up and down. Charlie is still holding the phone up to his ear, and he lets his hand drop, hitting the end call button with his thumb. 

“You look – ” Reese says, and then shakes her head. She’s wearing a loose tank top and sleep shorts, there are bruises on her face and bags under her eyes, and Charlie is a complete asshole to be standing on her doorstep right now.

“I’m sorry,” Charlie starts, but Reese cuts him off with another impatient head-shake.

“Just come in,” she says. “I’m watching TV.”

She turns around, and he follows her inside. It’s dark in the house – the only light coming from the television that’s playing an old Cheers rerun, the volume set to a low buzz. 

Reese sits on one end of the couch, and Charlie sits on the other end.

“Water?” Reese asks.

“No, thanks,” Charlie says. He glances towards the closed bedroom door. “Is Tidwell – ”

“He’s not here,” Reese says.

“Oh.” 

Reese’s eyes shift away, her fingers tapping a rapid rhythm against the couch arm. “He went home earlier, I told him – I said I needed space.”

“Oh,” Charlie says again, and Reese glares at him.

“What?”

“Nothing,” Charlie says. They both look at the TV. 

“This is what I do when I can’t sleep,” Reese says, after a minute.

“Does it help?”

“Sometimes.”

Charlie closes his eyes and leans his head back against the couch. “I try to meditate, usually. Or I go outside.”

“Outside?” Reese asks.

“Yeah,” Charlie says. “To swim in the pool. Or look at the stars. Or just – be outside.” 

“No walls,” Reese says.

“Yeah,” Charlie says. “Ted thinks I’m going to get eaten by coyotes.”

Reese snorts out a surprised laugh, and Charlie opens his eyes, turns his head to grin at her. She’s looking back at him, open and smiling. And it’s – something like a miracle, to be sitting here tonight with Reese smiling at him like that. 

Charlie looks away, swallowing hard. The TV is playing a commercial for orange juice. He opens his mouth to tell Reese that orange is the world’s favorite flavor, after chocolate and vanilla. 

Reese reaches over and curls her hand around his. Charlie stares down at their entwined hands on the couch cushion, and then up at Reese, who is watching the orange juice ad with deep concentration. Charlie shuts his mouth and turns back to the TV. 

The next time he glances over, Reese is asleep, her head tilted slightly towards him.

Reese’s hand is reassuringly warm and real. Charlie watches the TV, breathes in and out, and holds on a little tighter.

**Author's Note:**

> The title is from "The Left Hand of Darkness" by Ursula K. Le Guin. Two are one; it seemed fitting.


End file.
